Next morning I arose betimes, and equipped myself without delay. I had
eight or ten miles to walk, so far from the town being the residence of
these people; and I forthwith repaired to their dwelling. The persons
whom I desired to see were known to me only by name, and by their place
of abode. It was a mother and her three daughters to whom I now carried
the means not only of competence but riches; means which they, no doubt,
had long ago despaired of regaining, and which, among all possible
messengers, one of my age and guise would be the least suspected of
being able to restore.
I arrived, through intricate ways, at eleven o'clock, at the house of
Mrs. Maurice. It was a neat dwelling, in a very fanciful and rustic
style, in the bosom of a valley, which, when decorated by the verdure
and blossoms of the coming season, must possess many charms. At present
it was naked and dreary.
As I approached it, through a long avenue, I observed two female
figures, walking arm-in-arm and slowly to and fro, in the path in which
I now was. "These," said I, "are daughters of the family. Graceful,
well-dressed, fashionable girls they seem at this distance. May they be
deserving of the good tidings which I bring!" Seeing them turn towards
the house, I mended my pace, that I might overtake them and request
their introduction of me to their mother.
As I more nearly approached, they again turned; and, perceiving me, they
stood as if in expectation of my message. I went up to them.
A single glance, cast at each, made me suspect that they were not
sisters; but, somewhat to my disappointment, there was nothing highly
prepossessing in the countenance of either. They were what is every day
met with, though less embellished by brilliant drapery and turban, in
markets and streets. An air somewhat haughty, somewhat supercilious,
lessened still more their attractions. These defects, however, were
nothing to me.
I inquired, of her that seemed to be the elder of the two, for Mrs.
Maurice.
"She is indisposed," was the cold reply.
"That is unfortunate. Is it not possible to see her?"
"No;" with still more gravity.
I was somewhat at a loss how to proceed. A pause ensued. At length the
same lady resumed, "What's your business? You can leave your message
with me."
"With nobody but her. If she be not _very_ indisposed----"
"She is very indisposed," interrupted she, peevishly. "If you cannot
leave your message, you may take it back again, for she must not be
disturbed."
This was a singular reception. I was disconcerted and silent. I knew not
what to say. "Perhaps," I at last observed, "some other time----"
"No," (with increasing heat,) "no other time. She is more likely to be
worse than better. Come, Betsy," said she, taking hold of her
companion's arm; and, hieing into the house, shut the door after her,
and disappeared. I stood, at the bottom of the steps, confounded at such
strange and unexpected treatment. I could not withdraw till my purpose
was accomplished. After a moment's pause, I stepped to the door, and
pulled the bell. A negro came, of a very unpropitious aspect, and,
opening the door, looked at me in silence. To my question, Was Mrs.
Maurice to be seen? he made some answer, in a jargon which I could not
understand; but his words were immediately followed by an unseen person
within the house:--"Mrs. Maurice can't be seen by anybody. Come in,
Cato, and shut the door." This injunction was obeyed by Cato without
ceremony.
Here was a dilemma! I came with ten thousand pounds in my hands, to
bestow freely on these people, and such was the treatment I received. "I
must adopt," said I, "a new mode."
I lifted the latch, without a second warning, and, Cato having
disappeared, went into a room, the door of which chanced to be open, on
my right hand. I found within the two females whom I had accosted in the
portico. I now addressed myself to the younger:--"This intrusion, when I
have explained the reason of it, will, I hope, be forgiven. I come,
madam----"
"Yes," interrupted the other, with a countenance suffused by
indignation, "I know very well whom you come from, and what it is that
prompts this insolence; but your employer shall see that we have not
sunk so low as he imagines. Cato! Bob! I say."
"My employer, madam! I see you labour under some great mistake. I have
no employer. I come from a great distance. I come to bring intelligence
of the utmost importance to your family. I come to benefit and not to
injure you."
By this time, Bob and Cato, two sturdy blacks, entered the room. "Turn
this person," said the imperious lady, regardless of my explanations,
"out of the house. Don't you hear me?" she continued, observing that
they looked one upon the other and hesitated.
"Surely, madam," said I, "you are precipitate. You are treating like an
enemy one who will prove himself your mother's best friend."
"Will you leave the house?" she exclaimed, quite beside herself with
anger. "Villains! why don't you do as I bid you?"
The blacks looked upon each other, as if waiting for an example. Their
habitual deference for every thing _white_, no doubt, held their hands
from what they regarded as a profanation. At last Bob said, in a
whining, beseeching tone, "Why, missee, massa buckra wanna go for doo,
dan he winna go fo' wee."
The lady now burst into tears of rage. She held out her hand,
menacingly. "Will you leave the house?"
"Not willingly," said I, in a mild tone. "I came too far to return with
the business that brought me unperformed. I am persuaded, madam, you
mistake my character and my views. I have a message to deliver your
mother which deeply concerns her and your happiness, if you are her
daughter. I merely wished to see her, and leave with her a piece of
important news; news in which her fortune is deeply interested."
These words had a wonderful effect upon the young lady. Her anger was
checked. "Good God!" she exclaimed, "are you Watson?"
"No; I am only Watson's representative, and come to do all that Watson
could do if he were present."
She was now importunate to know my business.
"My business lies with Mrs. Maurice. Advertisements, which I have seen,
direct me to her, and to this house; and to her only shall I deliver my
message."
"Perhaps," said she, with a face of apology, "I have mistaken you. Mrs.
Maurice is my mother. She is really indisposed, but I can stand in her
place on this occasion."
"You cannot represent her in this instance. If I cannot have access to
her now, I must go; and shall return when you are willing to grant it."
"Nay," replied she, "she is not, perhaps, so very sick but that I will
go, and see if she will admit you." So saying, she left me for three
minutes; and, returning, said her mother wished to see me.
I followed up-stairs, at her request; and, entering an ill-furnished
chamber, found, seated in an arm-chair, a lady seemingly in years, pale,
and visibly infirm. The lines of her countenance were far from laying
claim to my reverence. It was too much like the daughter's.
She looked at me, at my entrance, with great eagerness, and said, in a
sharp tone, "Pray, friend, what is it you want with me? Make haste; tell
your story, and begone."
"My story is a short one, and easily told. Amos Watson was your agent in
Jamaica. He sold an estate belonging to you, and received the money."
"He did," said she, attempting ineffectually to rise from her seat, and
her eyes beaming with a significance that shocked me; "he did, the
villain, and purloined the money, to the ruin of me and my daughters.
But if there be justice on earth it will overtake him. I trust I shall
have the pleasure one day--I hope to hear he's hanged. Well, but go on,
friend. He _did_ sell it, I tell you."
"He sold it for ten thousand pounds," I resumed, "and invested this sum
in bills of exchange. Watson is dead. These bills came into my hands. I
was lately informed, by the public papers, who were the real owners, and
have come from Philadelphia with no other view than to restore them to
you. There they are," continued I, placing them in her lap, entire and
untouched.
She seized the papers, and looked at me and at her daughter, by turns,
with an air of one suddenly bewildered. She seemed speechless, and,
growing suddenly more ghastly pale, leaned her head back upon the chair.
The daughter screamed, and hastened to support the languid parent, who
difficultly articulated, "Oh, I am sick; sick to death. Put me on the
bed."
I was astonished and affrighted at this scene. Some of the domestics, of
both colours, entered, and gazed at me with surprise. Involuntarily I
withdrew, and returned to the room below, into which I had first
entered, and which I now found deserted.
I was for some time at a loss to guess at the cause of these
appearances. At length it occurred to me, that joy was the source of the
sickness that had seized Mrs. Maurice. The abrupt recovery of what had
probably been deemed irretrievable would naturally produce this effect
upon a mind of a certain texture.
I was deliberating whether to stay or go, when the daughter entered the
room, and, after expressing some surprise at seeing me, whom she
supposed to have retired, told me that her mother wished to see me again
before my departure. In this request there was no kindness. All was
cold, supercilious, and sullen. I obeyed the summons without speaking.
I found Mrs. Maurice seated in her arm-chair, much in her former guise.
Without desiring me to be seated, or relaxing aught in her asperity of
looks and tones,--"Pray, friend, how did you _come by_ these papers?"
"I assure you, madam, they were honestly _come by_," answered I,
sedately and with half a smile; "but, if the whole is there that was
missing, the mode and time in which they came to me is matter of
concern only to myself. Is there any deficiency?"
"I am not sure. I don't know much of these matters. There may be less. I
dare say there is. I shall know that soon. I expect a friend of mine
every minute who will look them over. I don't doubt you can give a good
account of yourself."
"I doubt not but I can--to those who have a right to demand it. In this
case, curiosity must be very urgent indeed before I shall consent to
gratify it."
"You must know this is a suspicious case. Watson, to-be-sure, embezzled
the money; to-be-sure, you are his accomplice."
"Certainly," said I, "my conduct, on this occasion, proves that. What I
have brought to you, of my own accord; what I have restored to you,
fully and unconditionally, it is plain Watson embezzled, and that I was
aiding in the fraud. To restore what was never stolen always betrays the
thief. To give what might be kept without suspicion is, without doubt,
arrant knavery. To be serious, madam, in coming thus far, for this
purpose, I have done enough; and must now bid you farewell."
"Nay, don't go yet. I have something more to say to you. My friend, I'm
sure, will be here presently. There he is;" (noticing a peal upon the
bell.) "Polly, go down, and see if that's Mr. Somers. If it is, bring
him up." The daughter went.
I walked to the window absorbed in my own reflections. I was
disappointed and dejected. The scene before me was the unpleasing
reverse of all that my fancy, while coming hither, had foreboded. I
expected to find virtuous indigence and sorrow lifted, by my means, to
affluence and exultation. I expected to witness the tears of gratitude
and the caresses of affection. What had I found? Nothing but sordidness,
stupidity, and illiberal suspicion.
The daughter stayed much longer than the mother's patience could endure.
She knocked against the floor with her heel. A servant came up. "Where's
Polly, you slut? It was not you, hussy, that I wanted. It was her."
"She is talking in the parlour with a gentleman."
"Mr. Somers, I suppose; hey, fool? Run with my compliments to him,
wench. Tell him, please walk up."
"It is not Mr. Somers, ma'am."
"No? Who then, saucebox? What gentleman can have any thing to do with
Polly?"
"I don't know, ma'am."
"Who said you did, impertinence? Run, and tell her I want her this
instant."
The summons was not delivered, or Polly did not think proper to obey it.
Full ten minutes of thoughtful silence on my part, and of muttered
vexation and impatience on that of the old lady, elapsed before Polly's
entrance. As soon as she appeared, the mother began to complain bitterly
of her inattention and neglect; but Polly, taking no notice of her,
addressed herself to me, and told me that a gentleman below wished to
see me. I hastened down, and found a stranger, of a plain appearance, in
the parlour. His aspect was liberal and ingenuous; and I quickly
collected, from his discourse, that this was the brother-in-law of
Watson, and the companion of his last voyage.